While riding along in Berkeley, I signaled for a left turn, but Pirate wasn't paying attention and plowed right into me. Result: skinned knee, large bruise on left thigh, punched in the lower right abdomen by the end of my handlebars, and a rip in my all-but-brand-new (had them less than a week) B. Spoke Tailor pinstriped wool riding knickers.

And then the restaurant we were on the way to was crammed full of some sort of group event, so we couldn't go there.

And then we discovered that Pirate had lost his cell phone somewhere along the way.

On the way home, the bags in my bike baskets shifted, and one of the containers of Indian dessert (gulab jamun? barfi? I have no idea) opened up and leaked sugar syrup all over everything else in the bag.

Some time after we got home, we discovered that the cover on one of the throw pillows on the sofa has ripped.

While washing my travel mug, I managed to rip one of the gaskets, rendering it unusable.

The whole thing started with my brilliant suggestion, as we sat in the park watching the Oakland Marathon that we weren't running due to training injuries, that we head to Ikea to see if they had a desk I remembered, which seemed like it might solve some apartment space issues we've been struggling with. They didn't — they've discontinued it. They also didn't have the lamps we were looking for to replace the one that Bella has clawed badly.

I think I'm going to go to bed now, before anything else breaks or rips or overflows. Or I get any more bruises.